


Baker's Dozen

by Katiebug445



Category: Free!
Genre: Fictober, M/M, loosely based off of Future Fish, makoharu - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-24 12:27:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16175072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katiebug445/pseuds/Katiebug445
Summary: Haru accidentally starts a fire and is saved by a cute firefighter.





	Baker's Dozen

None of this was supposed to happen. 

 

Haru stared at the building where he worked from the back of the ambulance, eyes on the tendrils of smoke that rose from the broken out windows, and felt his heart sink. He’d be out of a job until they could get this fixed, and by the looks of it, that would be a long ways off. 

 

He didn’t remember exactly what happened, but he knew it started because of a grease rag. 

 

They’d been short staffed at the bakery that day, and Haru was doing the work of three people, trying to get things ready for several Halloween parties they’d been booked to cater that weekend. He’d been making cookies, cakes, candies, and anything else they could slap a pair of candy corn vampire fangs on, and trying to caramelize some sugar to go on top of a dozen donuts when they were finished, when it happened. 

 

Haru had one hand on the pan, and another gripping a rag, and trying to mop up any spills he was making right then and there. He had his eyes on the timer, and the next thing he knew, the rag was up in flames, and then the kitchen was right behind it. He could hear the smoke alarm going off, but he couldn’t find out where it was. Haru began feeling his way towards the exit, and ended up scalding his hand on the burner. He wasn’t sure what happened after that, but when he came to, he was being carried out of the building by one of the firemen. 

 

Haru coughed, and was set into the back of one of the ambulances and given an oxygen mask to help him breathe. His lungs and throat felt scorched, and every breath he took was agonizing. The firefighter took off his helmet, and, though he was covered in ash, Haru could tell he was very handsome. “Are you okay?” He asked, his green eyes wide and full of concern. 

 

“Think so.” Haru croaked, taking note of how much talking hurt. “What happened?” 

 

The firefighter sat down beside him and was silent for a beat or two before explaining, “We got a call for a burning building. When we got here, the whole thing was up in smoke. Several employees were standing outside, but one girl explained there was one still inside. So, we started looking for you.” He paused, shooting him a smile, and said, “I’m just glad I found you in time!” 

 

_ So, _ Haru thought,  _ this is the man that just saved my life _ .  He shot the man another look and held out his hand, “Haru.” He said. “Thanks.” 

 

“Makoto.” Replied the firefighter, taking his hand. “And you’re welcome. Can you tell me what started the fire?” 

 

“Grease rag, I think.” He explained with a shrug. 

 

“Well, Haru, next time you’re baking, make sure to keep those rags  _ away  _ from an open flame, okay?”

 

Haru chuckled, another cough following it up and causing his throat to burn again, and leaned against the side of the door. “I just hate that all my work is gone.” He admitted.

 

“What were you making?” 

 

“Twelve dozen cookies, three cakes, and two bakers dozen donuts. All for different Halloween parties.” 

 

“Ouch.” 

 

“Big time ouch.”

 

“I’m sure they’ll understand. Fires can’t exactly be helped.”

 

Haru shrugged, thinking of all the money they’d be losing for his mistake, and sighed. “Maybe. Still sucks, though.” And it did suck. Knowing that it was his fault that they’d lost 3 jobs, the building, and he’d put everyone temporarily out of work really, really sucked. His stomach twisted in an uncomfortable knot at the thought of it, and shook his head, trying to shake the thoughts off. Makoto the Firefighter was right: fires couldn’t be helped. 

 

Somehow, that didn’t make him feel much better. 

 

“Thanks for saving my life.” Haru said. 

 

Makoto shrugged it off, turning his face away so the baker wouldn’t see the pink in his cheeks. “It’s just my job.” 

 

“Well, your job is cool.” 

 

“So is yours.” 

 

“Not really.”

 

“Really.” 

 

“Agree to disagree?” Haru replied, fighting his own blush. He really didn’t see what was so cool about being a baker. Of course,  _ he  _ found it cool, but as his friend Rin had pointed out multiple times: he was weird, and baking was weird, and fondant was even weirder. Rin didn’t understand how it worked, or how some bakers could get it to look so good, or why the taste didn’t match the look of it, or anything about it. 

Though, Haru remembered, he happily ate whatever samples he was given, fondant or not. 

 

Makoto was called away after that, and Haru allowed himself a minute to breathe shallowly, so not to aggravate his damaged throat even more than it was already. He watched as Makoto took the firehose from one of the other firefighters and held it seemingly with ease as it was wound back up onto the truck and put away. He really liked the nice firefighter that had saved his life, and smiled gently when the taller man turned back to him. 

  
  


Three weeks later, and Haru was fully recovered. It would be a while still until the bakery was fully functioning again, but until then, he had his oven at home to work out of for the time being. And he was. Nearly every day. 

 

A thought had occurred to him a couple days after the fire, and as soon as he was feeling a little better, he got started.

 

Now, here he was, on his way down to the fire station, with a box of cookies in his hands, and a smile tugging at his lips. When he got down there, he quickly made his way inside and asked for the tall, brunette firefighter with the emerald green eyes. Another one of the men, a tall, dark haired man named Sousuke, pointed over to a man bent over in the far corner of the room. Thanking him, Haru hurried off and tapped the man on the back. 

 

With a jump, Makoto turned around, and smiled when he realized who was there. “Hey, you’re Haru, right?” He asked. 

 

“That’s me. I brought you something.” He replied, holding the box up. 

 

“Oh.. Thank you!” The taller man took the package and opened the lid, grinning when he realized what was in it. He balanced it in one hand, and pulled out a cookie, taking a huge bite of it, and let his eyes roll back in his head. “Oh man, that’s good!” he said.

 

Haru smiled and waited until Makoto had finished off his cookie before explaining. “I wanted to say thank you again for saving my life. There’s not much I can do at home, but--” 

 

“N-No, this is perfect! Thank you so much.” Makoto interrupted, gently setting the box down and turning to face Haru again. “You don’t have to thank me, it’s part of my job.” 

 

“Still. Thanks.” 

 

“Well, you’re welcome.” 

 

They stood in silence for another moment or two before Haru cleared his throat. “I need to get back home. I’m still trying to make up for the jobs we lost.” 

 

“Thanks for coming by. And thank you for the cookies! They’re incredible.” 

 

“No problem.” Haru said.

 

He began walking away, when Makoto’s sudden cry of “Haru, wait!” stopped him. “Uh, when the bakery is back up and running again, would it be okay if I stopped in?” 

 

“I’d like that.” 


End file.
